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Queen Of The Underworld
It’s spring time. You wake in the sun, cursing curtains, that can’t keep the day from your face, as you wrap your arms around me, Queen of the underworld, I am gloomy but glam, shining storm clouds, that you hold, so tightly, so that they know it’s safe, to rain.
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Tweet Tweet
I hate the twitter algorithm. I don’t need to know who liked what, or who follows who. I don’t need to know that everyone is giving Piers Morgan more digital oxygen than he deserves. I don’t need to know that my ultra male feminist friend from school only uses his account to like violent porn…
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Astronomy – This Time, It’s Personal
She says really pointless things, or so he says, but it’s an art! Apparently, it’s an art! Art and cruelty, so he says, art and cruelty, but she thinks it’s so essential, and she thinks he speaks no sense, but he tries, or so he says, and she lies, when she says she doesn’t care.…
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Late Night Talking
Beautiful, he expects. Irresistible, he expects. It’s irresponsible for him to appear, and yet, he does. I’m done. He jokes that I haven’t spent a random thought, thinking of him, he pretends to be shy, when he says that I am still exciting, describing how his body races, when I am cute, and nerdy belligerent,…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 